Ruthless Mexican Drug Trafficker Was A Robin Hood In Home State

The opening to one of the many tunnels that authorities discovered were used by Guzman as escape routes. The neighborhood of La Libertad is known for its complex drainage system, which provided easy access in and out of various safe houses.

Attendee at the shrine of Jesus Malverde, an icon in Sinaloa. His existence is disputed but he is legendary in Mexico, and is said to have been a Robin Hood-like bandit who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Although not officially recognized by the Catholic church, he is venerated as a saint, particularly in "narco" culture and in Sinaloa.

A soldier picks up a fake cucumber commonly used by cartels to smuggle drugs. Four days after Guzman's capture, Mexican marines raided a ranch in Culiacan, where they found a pit filled with empty plastic cucumbers.

Federal police and marines encircle an area at the ranch Culiacan where they found the empty plastic cucumbers.

Encarni Pindadofor NPR

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Originally published on February 24, 2014 8:39 pm

Drug cartel leader Joaquin Guzman, known as "El Chapo," was formally charged on Monday with violating drug trafficking laws in Mexico. While officials celebrate his capture, many in his home state of Sinaloa — who viewed the kingpin as a helper of the poor and a keeper of the peace — are not as pleased.

Guzman got his nickname "Chapo" because of his short, stocky stature — he's only 5 foot 6. But given the fact that he escaped from a maximum security prison some 13 years ago, has since evaded capture despite a worldwide dragnet, and ran one the most far-reaching drug organizations in the world with annual profits in the billions of dollars, many in Sinaloa say he's larger than life.

At a cemetery just outside Culiacan, Sinaloa's capital, four 20-somethings are drinking scotch and singing narcocorridos, or ballads heralding the life of drug traffickers.

Christina, a 21-year-old psychology student, says the narco-culture runs through their veins; it's part of life. The four friends are sitting around the grave of Christina's boyfriend, who was killed last year in a shootout.

Enormous, ornate mausoleums — some of which are two-stories tall with air conditioning — fill the cemetery, which is known to be the final resting spot of drug traffickers. A few plots down from the partying friends, a banner hangs over the grave of a recently deceased man. He's pictured by a serene lake, clutching an AK-47.

Christina says no one here is happy about Guzman's arrest. Because of Guzman, she says, everything is under control — people don't steal, kidnap or extort here. And the partiers say he helped the poor, paved roads, gave people jobs — the list of good deeds goes on.

Now thought to be 55 years old, Guzman grew up poor in the Sierra Madre of Sinaloa. He is said to have dropped out of school in the third grade and took up the drug trade as a teenager. He rose quickly through the ranks, and by the 1990s had developed an international trade that favored stuffing cocaine in 747s and marijuana in tunnels brazenly constructed under the U.S.-Mexico border.

Despite his Robin Hood reputation, Guzman was a vicious killer who's responsible for much of the country's deadly drug war, says George Grayson, an expert on Mexico's traffickers.

"Ruthless in his own right and his efforts to seem like a good guy were sheer public relations at which he was extremely talented," Grayson says.

What will happen to the Sinaloa cartel without its leader is the pressing question here and has many worried about a violent fight for power.

At a Flag Day celebration in Culiacan's city hall on Monday, all public officials attending were asked just that.

Sinaloa Gov. Mario Lopez Valdez says no one knows, but with so much money at stake, he says there undoubtedly will be a fight for control here. Valdez estimates the cartel took in $500 million a year — experts put it much higher at $3 billion.

At a large shrine downtown to Jesus Malverde, the saint of drug traffickers, worshiper Pedro Alvarez says it's too bad Guzman was captured, because he kept the peace. And thanks to Chapo, Alvarez says, his small town in a nearby state is much safer and richer, too.

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Transcript

ROBERT SIEGEL, HOST:

It's ALL THINGS CONSIDERED from NPR News. I'm Robert Siegel.

Mexico's most powerful cartel leader has been formally charged today with violating that country's drug trafficking laws. The charges against Joaquin Guzman, whose nickname El Chapo means shorty, make it unlikely that he will be extradited to the United States any time soon. He faces federal trafficking indictments in at least eight U.S. cities. And while many people in both countries are celebrating Guzman's capture, the mood in his home state is not as cheerful.

As NPR's Carrie Kahn reports some there viewed the kingpin as a helper of the poor and a keeper of the peace.

CARRIE KAHN, BYLINE: Joaquin Guzman got his nickname Chapo because of his short stocky stature, he's only 5'6". But given the fact that he escaped from a maximum security prison some 13 years ago, has since evaded capture despite a worldwide dragnet, and ran one the most far-reaching drug organizations in the world, with annual profits in the billions of dollars, many here in Sinaloa say he's larger than life.

UNIDENTIFIED GROUP: (Singing in foreign language)

KAHN: These four 20-somethings are drinking scotch and singing narcocorridos, or ballads heralding the life of drug traffickers.

CHRISTINA: (Foreign language spoken)

KAHN: Christina, a 21-year-old psychology student, says the narco-culture runs through their veins. It's part of life here. The four friends are sitting around the grave of Christina's boyfriend who was killed last year in a shoot out. They are in a cemetery just outside the city. Enormous, ornate mausoleums, some two stories tall complete with air conditioning fill the cemetery, known to be the final resting spot of drug traffickers.

A few plots down from the partying friends, a banner hangs over the grave of a recently deceased man. He's pictured by a serene lake, clutching an AK-47. Christina says no one here is happy about Chapo's arrest.

CHRISTINA: (Foreign language spoken)

KAHN: She says because of Chapo everything is under control; people don't steal, kidnap or extort here. And the partiers say he helped the poor, paved roads, gave people jobs. The list of good deeds goes on.

Now thought to be 55 years old, Guzman grew up poor in the Sierra of Sinaloa. He is said to have dropped out of school in the third grade and took up the drug trade as a teenager. He rose quickly through the ranks, and by the 1990s, had developed an international trade that favored stuffing cocaine in 747s and marijuana in tunnels brazenly constructed under the U.S.-Mexico border.

Despite his Robin Hood reputation, Guzman is a vicious killer who's responsible for much of the country's deadly drug war, says George Grayson, an expert on Mexico's traffickers.

GEORGE GRAYSON: Ruthless in his own right. And his efforts to seem like a good guy were sheer public relations, at which he was extremely talented.

KAHN: What will happen to the Sinaloa cartel without its leader is the pressing question here and has many worried about a violent fight for power. At a Flag Day celebration in Culiacan's City Hall today, all public officials attending were asked just that.

(SOUNDBITE OF FANFARE)

KAHN: Sinaloa Governor Mario Lopez Valdez says no one knows.

GOVERNOR MARIO LOPEZ VALDEZ: (Foreign language spoken)

KAHN: But with so much money at stake, he estimates the cartel takes in a half billion dollars a year - experts put it much higher at three - the governor says there undoubtedly will be a fight for control here.

At a large shrine downtown to Jesus Malverde, the saint of drug traffickers, worshipper Pedro Alvarez says it's too bad Chapo was captured. He kept the peace.

PEDRO ALVAREZ: (Foreign language spoken)

KAHN: And he says thanks to Guzman, his small town in a nearby state is much safer and richer too.